


each light, another world

by somnambulism



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Drowning, Gen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4462646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnambulism/pseuds/somnambulism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there were several ways this could end. she saw them all.</p><p>(a collection of drabbles for elizabeth and alternate happenings; incomplete)</p>
            </blockquote>





	each light, another world

**i.** Behind one door, Elizabeth saw Booker for who he was and what he would become. The man who would kill for her, discarding her other selves until he claimed his heir as prize. The man who had saved her, who would save her. (The timeline scattered now. Things had happened and they would happen, both at once. Past and present as future.)

He was not worth the number of lives and worlds he would destroy. How was one man capable of such treachery? Because he was not simply one man but many playing the same variation across skies and stars. He flailed in her and her and her and her grasp, a desire to go limp battled the body's reflex to fight for air. If ever she could fight, it was now. By herself, and with her other selves, to give him new life below the water's surface. Stop the moving, breathing. Cleanse him as he so wished.

Each one, she saw the beginning and end. Snuff out his light, banish his darkness. 

Follow the lighthouse. Reclaim the city. 

Kill the man.

 **ii.** And behind another door, she held him underwater for only a second before caving. She released him; the others of her released him. Booker DeWitt rose gasping for air, still unsteady on his feet. Rose from the lake as the same man. The man who took her from the tower, her keys and her cage. 

Whatever it takes echoed with an unspoken "except". Except this.

She saw herself here in another time, trying to undo her own choices, if there was choice at all. Here she made her final call:

Let the man go. Take it back. 

Dance. (die)


End file.
